Chapter 7

JACKLA

I woke up with a strange, humming energy vibrating through my limbs, but the moment I opened my eyes, the air felt wrong. This wasn’t the cold, grand estate from the wedding. This wasn’t my room.

The air here smelled of cedar and expensive wood smoke. I scrambled out of the bed, my bare feet sinking into a plush, cream-colored rug. I ran to the window and pulled back the heavy curtains.

I gasped. 

We weren't in the city anymore. Outside, a massive luxury cabin stretched out into the wilderness. Huge glass panes looked out over a dark, misty forest, and the house itself was built of heavy, dark logs and sleek black stone. It was beautiful, but it felt like a gilded cage.

“Where am I?” I whispered, my voice sounding thin in the quiet.

Panic flared in my throat, hot and choking. Had I been kidnapped in my sleep? Sold off like a piece of livestock? In the mafia world, humans were traded like currency, and I was the ultimate counterfeit coin.

I backed away from the glass, my hands flying to my chest to steady my racing heart. As I moved, a sharp, stinging pain flared in my arm. I flinched, glancing down at my wrist. A jagged, angry-looking cut marred my skin.

“Ouch... how did I get this?” I murmured. I searched my memory, but there was a terrifying, dark hole where last night should have been.

The door creaked open, and I jumped, nearly tripping over my own feet. Alpha Morano walked in. He looked tired, his usual sharp suit replaced by a dark shirt that hugged the heavy muscles of his chest. 

Relief washed over me so quickly it made my knees weak. If he was here, I hadn't been sold. He was still my husband.

“Why do you look like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

His voice was a low, velvet rumble that made my skin prickle. He walked toward me with a slow, predatory grace that made the room feel suddenly very small. I couldn't help it; my eyes trailed over his face. 

He was stunning, a dangerous masterpiece of sharp jawlines and deep, searching eyes.

“I… I was just wondering why the place looks different,” I replied, my voice trembling.

“We had to move to a better place last minute,” he said.

I didn't believe him for a second. The previous estate had been a palace…this place felt like a bunker, a place meant for hiding or war. But more than the house, a deeper fear gnawed at me…I didn't remember the car ride. 

I didn't remember being carried. I didn't remember anything after he came into my room. I shifted my weight, and the injury on my wrist throbbed in rhythm with my heartbeat. Morano’s gaze dropped instantly, locking onto the wound. 

His entire demeanor shifted, his brow furrowing as he stepped into my personal space. “Why aren’t you healing?” he asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous, inquisitive whisper.

His words sent a chill down my spine. Healing? Why would he expect a scratch to disappear in seconds? I pulled my arm back, hiding it behind my dress as I looked him dead in the eye.

“How did I get this injury?” I fired back, the question acting as a shield.

I stood there, my heart hammering against my ribs. I couldn't tell him the truth. I couldn't tell him that I had suppressed my wolf for six years while hiding in the human world. 

My inner beast was dormant, a silent passenger that needed time to wake up and adapt to this life of teeth and silver. That was why the skin stayed broken. That was why I wasn't knitting back together like a supernatural.

Alpha Morano didn't move an inch. He just loomed over me, his shadow stretching across the floor. “You had too much to drink,” he said, his voice smooth. “You fell off the bed.”

I blinked, trying to pierce through the fog in my mind. “But I remember us kissing and…”

“Yeah, after that,” he chipped in, cutting me off with a sharp finality.

I frowned, my confusion deepening. “So we stopped kissing... to have a drink?”

“That’s right.” He stepped closer, his eyes searching mine for any flicker of memory. “So you don’t remember the rest of what happened last night? How you fell?”

“No,” I admitted, looking away from his intense gaze. “It’s all a blur. Probably because of the alcohol.”

I sank onto the edge of the bed, my mind racing. So we hadn’t had sex. A part of me felt a strange sting of disappointment I couldn't explain. I wasn't supposed to be a weak, trembling bride. 

To make my plan work, I needed him wrapped around my fingers. I needed to be the one in control. But as I thought about his hands on my skin, a traitorous heat curled in my stomach. 

He was supposed to be a means to an end, yet his touch had felt like heaven. I snapped out of the thought, forcing my expression to turn cold. 

Morano walked toward the door, pausing with his hand on the frame. “I’ll send someone to cover that injury for you. After that, get ready and come down for breakfast. Don’t keep me waiting.” And that was an order.

“For someone who talks so big, you look like you’ve spent the night fighting for your life,” I teased, tilting my head as I scanned his pale features. “Is being married to me really that exhausting already, or can you just not handle your liquor?”

Morano froze. He slowly turned his head, his dark eyes darkening until they were two voids of pure, unadulterated heat. He didn't just look at me…he looked through me, his gaze settling on my mouth before dragging slowly down my body.

A slow, wicked grin pulled at his lips…the kind of look that promised trouble and pleasure in equal measure.

“Careful, wifey,” he rumbled, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly register that seemed to vibrate right through the mattress and into my skin. “You were the one screaming for me to ruin you last night. If I look exhausted, it’s only because I spent the last few hours trying to decide which part of you I wanted to devour first.”

He took a slow step back toward me, the air in the room suddenly thick enough to drown in. “Keep poking the beast with that tongue of yours, and I might just decide to skip breakfast and finish what we started on the floor.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. A sudden, sharp throb pulsed deep between my pussy, a heat so intense it made my toes curl against the rug. My breath hitched, my lungs suddenly forgetting how to function as his words replayed in my mind. Devour me? Finish on the floor?

A nervous, breathless giggle escaped my throat…a sound of pure, helpless surrender that broke the heavy tension. It was the first time I had genuinely laughed in months, and I hated how much my body was responding to his every word.

I immediately straightened my face, clutching the sheets to hide the way my hands were trembling, but the damage was done. He knew.

“Breakfast,” he reminded me, his grin turning sharp and triumphant as he stepped into the hallway. “Ten minutes. Wear something I can take off easily.”

The door clicked shut, leaving me in a deafening silence. I sat there, my heart hammering against my ribs and my pulse racing in places it shouldn't. 

I was supposed to be the one playing him, but as I sat in the heat he left behind, I realized I was the one walking straight into his trap.